They entered the tent, and weighed the gold in the gold scales, which form part of a miner's working implements. It turned the fifty ounces.
"Honestly paid for," said Basil, "it represents a couple of hundred pounds. A hundred pounds each."
Chaytor merely nodded, and made no comment upon the remark, but it dwelt in his mind. Not so very long ago Basil had expressed indifference regarding their possessions of gold, and had gone the length of saying that Chaytor might have his share, for all he cared for it. Now he expressed an interest in it, and reckoned their day's work at "a hundred pounds each." That indicated that he looked upon half as his fair share. What did this newly-awakened interest portend? With his instinctive cunning Chaytor felt that this was not a favourable time to open up the subject; far better to let it work quietly until it came to a natural head. Besides, he was feverishly engrossed in the question he had suggested, whether the rich patch they had struck would last. Time alone could answer that question. They retired to their beds of dry leaves a little earlier than usual, and were at work in the morning with the rising of the sun. Basil worked chiefly at the bottom of the shaft, Chaytor at the top, and the honest man of this ill-assorted pair sent up two buckets of stuff before breakfast, which was even richer than they had raised on the previous day. Basil climbed to earth's surface hand over hand.
"He uses the rope like a cat," thought Chaytor.
The two buckets of stuff were emptied into a tub.
"Let us wash it out before breakfast," said Basil.
They went down to the river, carrying the tub between them. On the top of the auriferous soil were two tin basins, and, after puddling the tub well and letting the worthless refuse flow over the brim, they set to work washing what remained in the basins, with that rotary motion in which gold-diggers are so skilful, and which enables them to get rid of the loosened earth, and keep the heavy precious metal at a safe angle in the bottom of the dish. It had hitherto been Basil's practice to leave this delicate operation to Chaytor, but on this morning he took part in it, using one dish, while Chaytor used the other. Chaytor took, note of every small circumstance; nothing escaped him.
"This is a new move of yours, Basil," he said.
"I am beginning to take a real interest in the work," admitted Basil. "In a manner of speaking, it is waking me up."
"Glad to hear it," said Chaytor. "These two buckets are worth something. There's not less than twenty ounces."